What You Owe
by Jay Rease
Summary: The Troubletones lost.  They lost and it was because Shelby wasn't there.  And now Shelby owes Santana, big time.  SMUT FIC.  Sheltana.  GIRLPEEN!  Prompt Fill.  Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

Title: What You Owe

Author: J Rease

Rating: M/Obscene

Warnings: Sheltana. Vulgar smut. Dirty talk. Teacher/Student relationship. GIRLPEEN.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: The Troubletones lost. They lost and it was because Shelby wasn't there. And now Shelby owes Santana, _**big time**_. SMUT FIC. Sheltana. GIRLPEEN! Prompt Fill. Rated M.

Author's Notes: I keep saying this. But this may be the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I don't want to be that author known for only writing smut. But people send me prompts and it just turns into these giant written porn pieces. *sigh* I apologize, I sometimes get racy. And this time it's Sheltana (something I'd never thought I'd write…but yea, this wrote itself). And it's **huge**. For this fic, I'm going to pretend that Brittana didn't happen. Extremely AU.

**Original Prompt Request****: the trouble tones lost and (from what i remember) shelby wasn't there to be there for them when they did lose. So, santana is mad and disapointed. Shelby feels bad because santana is lashing out at her, rightfully so. Shelby asks what she can do to make up for it...and i'm sure you can see where this is headed :) santana, being the person she is, tells shelby what she wants...sex. shelby can't resist santana (because she's sexy as hell and snarky and who doesn't love that right?) and then theres the boom pow and cash money that happens between them. Maybe you can slip in shelby giving beth to be looked after for the day&night by puck...so yeah i'm trying to decide how to say this without sounding like the biggest perv in the world but there's really no way so yeah can you include these? g!p, dirty talk, banter. **

**What You Owe**  
>A prompt fill for my wonderful friend Shelly (srortiz)<p>

The spotlights were off. She sat cross legged at center stage, her pretty dress dirty from the dust that gathered in the wake of their performance. The auditorium was finally empty, but she couldn't bring herself to leave; not without her trophy... not without the trophy the Troubletones should have won. She doesn't know how long she's been sitting there, her chin resting on her palm, her elbow balanced on the crook of her knee; tears drying on her face in flaky disappointment. No matter how fair she plays, no matter how hard she works, she never **wins**.

They should have won today. But the Michael medley that Nude Directions cheated with had been enough ass kissing to force the judges into a dazed stupor. The only time she's ever played fair, nobody gives her credit. She wants to point fingers, but she and her teammates worked their asses off for this competition, and that only left one person to blame; that same person who was walking quietly down the empty aisle in front of her, her heels echoing all the way to the shutters.

Shelby climbed the stairs to the stage, and bent sideways to sit beside her; always a lady. Shelby had this air about her; empathetic but authoritative. She felt Shelby's hand sit quietly on her bare shoulder, and she had to stop the pesky thoughts from stirring in her brain.

"Whatever you're about to say, don't."

Shelby sighed out loud.

"Santana..."

She brushes Shelby's hand from her shoulder before wobbling on her heel clad feet.

"I said don't! Don't give me that bullshit. You were too busy worrying about shit that had nothing to do with our group. You build us up and tell us we're we got this in the bag, and when we lose, you're nowhere to be found. Did you even watch the performance? I bet you were somewhere with your head so far up your own ass to notice that we were on! You're worse than Schue."

Shelby stands quickly in front of her, flawlessly finding her balance on three inch stilettos.

"Santana. This was our first competition. We did our best and we held our own. I didn't expect the other groups to be as well prepared as they were but we can-"

"We can what? Try again next year? There won't be a next year. This was all your fault! I won't get a chance to win anything for my team. All because you were worried about you and Puck's lame lay getting out."

Shelby looked shocked. The emotion was fast off her face, a stoic confidence replaced it soon after. Something akin to Rachel Berry's show face settled there.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Santana. I needed to get home to-"

She smirked at her former show choir director.

"You really thought nobody would guess? All the looks, the songs. You really thought that a man slut like Puck would keep banging you a secret? I mean, not that he told me, that stupid lovesick guppy face was enough."

She stepped closer to Shelby, suddenly infuriated with the woman for lying through her teeth.

"Did he even get you off? Trust me, I know from experience that he couldn't fuck his way out of a paper bag. I'm surprised he kept it as quiet as he did. I wouldn't have known for sure had I not stumbled upon Rachel trying to convince Q not to tell on you. And look who still has her job."

Shelby rung her hands together before shucking strands of hair behind her ear. She kept clearing her throat, but stopped the words from coming out of her mouth.

"Santana... I-"

"Did he fuck you right? Or did he work you up and leave you dry?"

She took a step closer to Shelby, their faces inches apart.

"Santana I don't think this is an appropriate conversation-"

She smirked at Shelby before wrapping an arm around the taller woman's waist. She leaned in close, hovering beside her before letting the hollow sound of her voice reach the teacher's ear.

"I bet he didn't fuck you like I could..."

There was nothing but silence. Shelby tensed in her arms, but didn't move away from her like she expected her to.

"He's pretty good at sucking my cock... but he couldn't fuck worth shit. I'm sure we could work something out... with me keeping your secret and all."

Shelby looked mortified. She looked like she was torn between asking her questions about her penis, and defending Puck's bedroom bravado. She opened her mouth finally, and took a step away from her before speaking.

"Santana, I will not be blackmailed into any sexual situation with you."

She smirked at Shelby. It was cute; Shelby thought she was in control. She stepped back into Shelby's personal space, this time linking both arms around her waist. Shelby seemed too in shock; too taken aback by her audacity to move out of her grasp.

"Who said anything about blackmail? You just owe me, now…for keeping your secret. I won't have to blackmail you... you'll want it—trust. In the meantime...enjoy your job."

She stood on her tip toes and leaned in to Shelby. She stopped abruptly over Shelby's lips. Shelby was holding her breath, her eyes dazed when she leaned in to kiss her full on the lips. Shelby didn't fight it; she seemed more stunned than anything. When she walked away from Shelby, she didn't look back... sure Shelby would be standing there for a while after.

000 0000 000

She was now nothing more than a substitute. After the Troubletones lost, she had nothing to do at the school but cover classes and head detentions. It didn't matter to her either way; she had been there to rebuild relationships with both Rachel and the biological parents of her daughter. She was leaning against the desk at the front of the class, her legs crossed at the ankle as she follows along in the textbook while a pimple faced student droned through a Shakespearian soliloquy.

Santana sat in the front row. She was tapping her pen lazily against the desk, her right hand twirling the curly end of her ponytail. Santana Lopez shook her to the core. Since the first encounter in the auditorium, the Cheerio managed to undo her at every turn. Luckily, the girl had more subtlety than Noah Puckerman ever did. She hated to admit that she enjoyed the attention; but she didn't want the girl to know that she had the upper hand. The Latina peaked her interest; she couldn't deny the way Santana made her feel with the smoldering looks and lingering touches.

She was _curious_. She hated that she was about to put herself in another one of these situations. When it happened with Noah, she'd been vulnerable; that and she hadn't been touched in so long. She regretted it the moment they were done... she hated herself so much after; she kept making all the wrong mistakes with all the wrong people.

Santana was different. She was discreet and sexy and...she was any gutter minded teacher's walking dream. But no matter what she told herself, she knew that she couldn't keep making these mistakes... all of her mistakes caught up with her. The kid with the boring voice still had two pages to read. He droned on until she announced the assignment left by their regular teacher, and sat down at the desk as the students all scribbled down their response to the question written on the board.

Santana was the first to finish, dropping a single lined sheet of paper on her desk before sauntering away. Santana sat back down, folding her hands and watching her intently from her seat. She didn't _**have**_ to read the paper. She was their sub. She knew that the busy work was another means of taking attendance, but the way Santana sat eagerly in her seat, waiting— she knew whatever was written on that paper was meant for her eyes only.

The first thing Shelby noticed about the paper was Santana's handwriting. It was meticulously neat. She let the words blur in her mind, and admired how pretty the block lettered text fit between the margins. She chanced a glance at the Cheerio, who was still sitting with her hands folded patiently in front of her. She looked back down at the paper and began to read:

_What are you thinking about right now, Miss Corcoran? I'm sure I must cross your mind thousands of times. I notice the way you look at me. Every time I see you, I notice your back tense. When I'm close enough, you hold your breath—waiting to see what I'll do. If I do it; when I'll do it. Do I make you nervous? Are you... are you afraid? Are you afraid of what I'd do to you? _

_If we were alone right now__..._

The bell buzzed. The noise made her spring quickly from her seat— breathless. She grabbed the sheets students were handing her as they left the room. Santana stood last, walking slowly towards the door. It shut, and she let out a breath of air and leaned a hand on the desk beside her. The door knob lock clicked… from the inside. She spun on her heel, noting with some unease that Santana was leaning in the door frame, a smirk playing at the edges of her mouth.

Santana slowly ambled to where she was standing, her left hand dragged along the edge of the desk, the sure smirk still on her lips. She watched Santana's hand drift lazily across the wood surface, fingers barely touching the worn desktop. All she could register was the girl's hand. Her dexterous fingers looked soft and slender; beautifully even skin...nails short—well-manicured and taken care of. That same hand lifted slowly off the desk between them; she flinched, before Santana smirked, gripping the papers she still held in her hand to put them flat on the desk. Her heart was marathoning an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. And her skin seemed to crawl with a dangerous anticipation. She couldn't move if she tried to. She gladly thanked an unknown power, because Santana had locked the door. Santana locked the door and no one would see her crumble into her temptation.

The girl was eyeing her methodically, searching for some unknown trigger to start whatever conversation she was thinking through in her head. The quiet made her uneasy. Santana was anything but predictable. Especially when the door was locked and the windows were drawn, and she and Santana were alone; all alone.

"Did you do it here? Were your reckless enough to let him have you at school?"

She didn't realize that she'd been dazed. Santana was standing behind the teacher's desk, her hands rubbing lazy lines across the back edge of the chair. She let air pass through her mouth, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to steady herself. _She was the adult here, she was in control._ And no matter how much the girl in front of her enticed her, she couldn't give in. She wouldn't.

"Santana, we've been over this..."

Santana stood up straighter, crossing her arms over her chest before walking around the chair to stand in front of her.

"We have been. I don't understand why you keep playing this I'm not into you game. Answer the question, Shelby. Did he fuck you here, or was he too much of a coward?"

She had to make a choice. She didn't care about this job, honestly, she could walk away from it and never come back to teaching if she chose to do so. What mattered now was her reputation. She didn't want to be known as the teacher who has sex with students- legal students or not. She didn't want to sully the integrity of her career. Giving into Santana, becoming an active participant; it was the first step over that same line she'd crossed with Noah. But this time... she knew the consequences beforehand.

She rubs her face in her hands before creating space between them. Being close to Santana felt like being supercharged with chaotic energy. Santana wasn't going to leave her alone. She didn't think the cheerleader would report her for what happened between her and Noah, but she was afraid of the ounce of her that believed that Santana might.

"We had sex at my house, Santana. Happy now? Would you like a note to your next class, or are you going to drill me for more _unimportant information_?"

Santana smirked, before walking two steps closer to her. With anyone else, she would have taken three steps back, but she found herself frozen to the spot, unable to form coherent speech. All it took was one scandalous look from the Cheerio to get her worked up.

"Free period. And these questions are very important. I need for you to understand that the sex you had with Puck won't prepare you for what I have planned..."

She was still stuck to the spot; Santana circled her slowly, like a vulture sizing up the fight left in its prey.

"Santana, nothing you have planned is going to happe-"

Santana stopped pacing around her. She felt the energy cackling up her body. She could feel Santana staring at her from behind, the warmth of her gaze burned nervous knots into the pit of her stomach. There was no sound from behind her, there were no signs of movement or action. She didn't dare turn around, something foreboding kept her motionless. Slender hands wrapped around her waist from behind, and Santana pulled her effortlessly backwards.

Santana dragged her left hand from her waist to push her hair to her opposite shoulder. Plump lips puckered against her pulse point, and she let her eyes flutter closed when the tip of Santana's tongue traced the path of her pulsing veins. She was suddenly hot, overheated in the sweltering space of Santana's arms. Santana, like a sinister telepath, began unbuttoning the blazer she'd put on that morning; effectively relieving the heat pent up beneath her clothing. Dexterous fingers untucked the red satin shirt she was wearing before Santana's well-manicured nails scraped lightly over the skin of her stomach.

She leaned back into Santana's still moving mouth just as Santana leaned them both forward. She bent at the hip, and her hands reflexively grabbed the edge of the desk. Santana moved her hair again, choosing to kiss the back of her neck as the Cheerio ground the unmistakable bulge into her backside. She pushed back against it, wanton with want; her logic abandoned.

Something inside her screamed for her to stop what was happening. Something louder quieted the annoying complaints and indulged in the feeling of Santana's hand massaging her breast through thin fabric. Santana's other hand reached between them and skillfully yanked her pencil skirt up to her waist. If stopping was an option, the only chance she would get was now. It lingered for a moment before Santana's left hand pushed beneath the fabric of her panties, a long finger swiping quickly down her slit, and back up to the bundle of nerves that was now throbbing uncontrollably.

"Shelby... if you come before I tell you to, you'll regret it."

She nodded. She nodded because she couldn't use her words. Santana's hand was rubbing light circles over her clit. She wanted to buck her hips against her; she wanted that finger to slip inside of her. Hands pulled away from her, and the cold air left goose bumps in the wake of Santana's touch. She had composed herself almost completely enough to ask Santana why she stopped, but the question caught in her throat when Santana's hands thumbed her underwear and pulled them down her legs.

Her breaths were thunderous in the quiet classroom. She could feel her chest, heavy over her heart. Her mouth was dry, and she was almost going crazy from the anticipation of Santana's next move. It was hard to stay still. Santana stopped at her ankle to lift her heel clad feet from the floor, before doing away with what she was sure to be damp panties.

She was shaking, trembling on the precipice of dying in a nerve shattering combustion, trying to be patient enough for Santana to do... whatever she was about to. She had hardly been touched... but she knew more than anything that she needed **release**. She didn't look behind her; doing that would sober her thoughts too much to go on. Instead she _listened_. She heard movement behind her, slight movement that she couldn't quite place before she realized what it meant.

The sharp intake of breath wasn't enough to steady her jumping nerves. A strangled moan broke through when Santana's tongue tediously stroked the length of her, and she felt her knees buckle at the thought of how this would end; it would end in rapture. Santana kneaded the flesh of her bottom, spreading her open before circling her tongue around her opening. She bucked away, too tense to play these games.

Santana grabbed her waist to pull her back toward her eager mouth. Without missing a beat, the Cheerio buried her face in her sex, lapping expertly over her clit. Her nose pressed into her, as the wet noises did dirty things to her mind. She wanted to turn around. She wanted to swivel and sit on that teacher's desk and wrap her legs around Santana's face; bury her hands in Santana's hair. She wanted to grind against that wet, long, smooth tongue that flicked deliciously over her swollen clit until she **came**.

But she didn't. Because she couldn't. Because Santana had told her not to until she said so. And for some reason she didn't want to disobey her. Santana's tongue spun quicker than her bucking body could comprehend. She was biting her lip to keep quiet, trying her best to stop the contractions inside her from pushing her over.

Another swipe over her clit would have done her in. It would have had her tumbling into her orgasm against Santana's warning. Luckily Santana pulled away just before she felt the familiar squeezing tremble of her climax. The cold air passed over her heated flesh for only seconds. Santana's nimble tongue was inside her seconds after, somehow managing to curl inside the tight confines of her clamping muscles.

"Uuuhhhn. Please... please just let me finish... _please, Santana_?"

Her legs were quivering. Her voice was octaves deeper and her hips had begun bouncing back against Santana's rigid tongue inside her. She was momentarily distracted at this person she'd become, but was quickly brought back to her impending explosion when Santana flicked a thumb over her engorged clit.

The noise that came out with her orgasm didn't have a name. It was a noise that was quick and hollow, a noise that made her voice a stranger to her ears. It drained all of the energy she had left in her body, and she fell limp over the desk, spent. She felt Santana pull away, slowly.

"What did I say, Shelby? I told you not to come until I said so."

000 0000 000

The first smack was loud and angry. It catapulted in her ears before the humming vestiges cleared the air of the classroom. She was standing behind Shelby, admiring the blazing handprint she'd left on the left cheek of her ass. She was **hard**. She was hard and disappointed. Shelby couldn't even wait. Her hands reached behind her to stop the second smack from landing. Now she was hard, disappointed and angry. She grabbed Shelby's wrists, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"Take your punishment. I barely touched you, and you couldn't even control yourself."

Shelby whimpered, but lay slack against the desk, her back rising and falling harshly. She let go of Shelby's wrists, and she put them flat on the desk beside her head. Shelby's ass was a vibrant red. Her skirt was hiked all the way up and she was still wearing her cherry stilettoes. Shelby's panties were tucked into her Cheerio's top. Shelby's sex was slick and swollen, the velvet skin glistened openly—Shelby was still bent over the teacher's desk…waiting. She slapped the other side of her ass harder, satisfied when Shelby only winced; biting her lip to keep the noise in. She leaned down to kiss Shelby's welting flesh, before letting her fingertips navigate her damp sex.

"Uuhgggh…mmmmhmmm…."

Shelby's shaky voice was hoarse, ragged and tired inside the room. Her hair fanned around her on the desk, her hands were balled into fists beside her head. She lifted her hand away from Shelby, delighted with the intake of breath she took in anticipation. She smirked, and looked at her soaked vagina, convinced that she could see it pulsating—aching for the next smack. She put her hand slowly on Shelby's bottom, rubbing it softly in a circular motion. She rubbed it to the bottom, cupping the bend that met with Shelby's thigh before cupping her sex, letting her fingers slide through her folds teasingly before reaching up to dip inside her.

She did it until it became routine. She did it until Shelby's hips instinctively rocked back against her palm when she stroked inside her…until she could feel the squeezing of Shelby's impending relapse into ecstasy. Shelby's breath came out in solid pants, bouts of unintelligible noises pushing past her lips, bitten in a struggle to keep the noises from sneaking into the school hallway. Shelby had a lick of sweat on her brow; always a lady—dainty against the desk she was finger fucking her against. Shelby's palms were gripping the flat top—trying to find something to hold on to through her tremors.

She lifted her hand a final time, letting it land lower on her ass, as Shelby grunted frustratingly in front of her. She pulled one of Shelby's wrists, and tugged her toward her. Shelby pivoted on her weak legs, somewhat winded in her arms. She leaned in closer to Shelby's face, and she let her tongue trace over the shell of her ear before whispering.

"And now you know how I feel. You'll feel that ache each time you take a seat today, and you'll think of me. Next time I tell you not to do something… _listen_."

She pushed away from Shelby, tightening her ponytail and fluffing out the pleats of her Cheerios skirt. She wanted Shelby to feel what she just felt. Disappointment. Shelby came without her, Shelby left her hard and disappointed. She wanted Shelby to feel that ache for the rest of the day. She wanted her to sit without her panties on; uncomfortable. Like how her erection felt straining against her spanks…needy. Shelby was still braced against the desk, her palms fanned out behind her, her cheeks flushed red and breaths chaotic. She walked to the door without looking behind her, because she knew that Shelby would still be there; stuck.

000 0000 000

The rest of her day had been corrupted. She'd been uncomfortable through the next three periods she subbed. Santana seemed to appear around every corner, never far away from her thoughts. She'd been embarrassed after; with how she reacted. She felt the most ashamed as she fixed her clothing. The unlocked door was suddenly a reminder of all the things that could get out about her. She pulled her skirt down, trying her best to settle the wrinkles. She twisted it sideways before tucking in her shirt and buttoning her blazer. She took a few deep breaths before walking out of the room; aware of the sticky moisture on the inside of her thighs. How easily she let it happen… how quickly she lost control.

By the end of the day, she'd forgiven herself. It wouldn't happen again, it couldn't. No matter how much she liked it… this had to stop. She barely made it through subbing for the glee club, her last period of the day. She couldn't make things weird by ignoring Figgins' request to take over for a sick Will Schuester. Santana had been absent, and she thanked a higher power that she would be able to keep her composure until the end of the day. She made it through, and avoided conversations with the list of people she really didn't want to talk to today.

The band members dwindled and soon even Brad had left the room. As she gathered the things she brought with her that morning, the unmistakable sound of a turning lock being bolted reverberated through the room. She knew it was Santana. She knew that something was about to happen. Santana appeared in her peripheral, going to each window to pull down the blinds. They were alone again. With the windows drawn. And she wasn't wearing panties.

"Are you still wet, Shelby?"

She lost the fight before it started. Something inside her squeezed and shuddered, and she couldn't lie with butterflies flapping in her belly.

"Santana…"

Santana walked over to her, one hand cocked on her hip. They were standing in front of the glossy piano, and her hand touched lightly on the instrument, depriving the waxed surface of its perfection.

Santana shook her head. In one fluid motion, she pulled down her Cheerios skirt and spanx, revealing tight spandex briefs sheathed over an impressively thick bulge. Santana stepped forward and reached for her hand. She let Santana take it; like it was the most basic instinct she had—giving into this _girl_…this **temptress**. Santana pulled her hand over the bulge before leaning into her, pressing her lips against her mouth in a purposed kiss. Santana deepened it quickly; it was the first real kiss they shared. She let her eyes drift closed and watched the heat form mesmerizing shapes behind her eyelids. Santana's kisses were sweet and smoky, her full lips mingling with her own; leaving remnants of sensation across her mouth.

She felt Santana move her hand beneath the elastic band of her underwear, and she relished the bare skin she found there. It was soft and silky bare skin; hairless skin that felt fragile and firm in her hand at the same time. She wanted to ask so many questions. She wanted to figure out all Santana was... and all she wasn't. But now was not the time for questions, because Santana was kissing her fervently and she had a handful of Santana's half erect penis in her hand.

She squeezed it slightly; enjoying the sharp breath Santana took before moving closer to kill the space between them. She pulled her arm away before their bodies collided, and wrapped her arms lazily around Santana's hip. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Santana was holding her face now, pressing her lips lightly against hers. There was a slow stirring, a buildup to some unknown crescendo skyrocketing her to her blaring arousal. She couldn't tell if the fear of being caught was the thrill, or if Santana's kisses were laced with something extremely addictive.

Whatever it was, she was entranced. Santana kissed her like she had years to make up for, the Cheerio was enraptured with her kiss... her hips were dragging against hers to create a tantalizing friction. She pressed against Santana's swiveling hips, and lost her thought process somewhere between Santana's tongue and the delicate hands pulling her closer to the growing bulge.

They kissed for a long while, the pace picked up and suddenly their hands were grabbing furiously at clothing. Santana brought her palms underneath her still wrinkled skirt and kneaded the tender flesh of her slightly bruised bottom. She kissed Santana harder and pulled the band holding her ponytail until ringlets of raven hair cascaded down to Santana's red and white uniform. She let her hands bunch in Santana's hair, still kissing Santana's never tiring mouth. Santana gripped the undersides of her thighs before lifting her up onto the piano... the keys droning loudly in protest.

Santana looked feral. Santana's hair was wild on her head, her eyes low enough to still be open; the bulge in her spandex underwear noticeably larger. Santana stopped kissing her momentarily, pulling away and contemplating something in the silence. Her chest was heavy. She was glad she lost her words, because she wouldn't have been able to use her voice. Santana seemed to have made a decision in her head, leaning away from her before pulling her off the piano. Santana pushed down lightly on her shoulders and she fell to her knees before the thought could be processed in her brain.

"You owe me an orgasm..."

Santana thumbed a corner of her briefs and let the monster in her pants spring free from its confines. She sat back on her legs, and took a deep breath, before reaching out to slowly grab the meaty girth of Santana's fully erect penis.

"Get to work."

Santana arched an eyebrow down at her, daring her to go against the command. She was almost offended. But she stopped herself from spitting back a biting retort when she realized that she was actually looking forward to being the person in control. She smiled to herself as she stroked Santana's erection. She leaned forward and let the tip of her tongue flick over the head of it, enjoying the taste of her before swallowing Santana halfway down her throat.

Santana bucked in response, pushing her dick further down. She tapped against Santana's hips, and she backed away in time for her to catch her breath.

"That will be the only break you're getting. . You can gag all you like but I won't let up if you start choking."

The pompous tone of Santana's voice challenged her. She should have found her dignity on that floor. She should have stood up walked away from Santana for believing that she had permission to talk down to her that way. But her arousal outweighed her ego. There was something sexy in her loss of control; something that made her wet with anticipation. She rarely had the chance to let loose. And Santana's prick was gorgeous. It was heavy in her hand and long enough to touch places inside her that would make toes curl. She wanted to clamp around it... she wanted to ride it and she wanted Santana to ram it inside her from behind. But first, she wanted it in her mouth.

She took a deep breath before swallowing Santana again. Santana's hands were pulling in her hair and quickly she became accustomed to the massive amount of meat knocking against the back of her throat. Santana had thrown her head back, moaning quietly at the feeling she was experiencing.

"Mmmmhmmm. Swallow that cock. You like it, don't you? You like gagging on this dick, huh? Swallow all of it."

There was a waver in her voice with every thrust. Santana pushed harder into her mouth. She hummed around the base as tears pricked her eyes. It didn't hurt. It was rough and she didn't know how long she could take it before she needed to give her mouth a break... but it was exhilarating. Santana's guttural grunts were turning her on. She was bobbing around her penis, the slight slurping sound enough for her to reach down to tease her clit. Santana smacked at the arm that had disappeared up her skirt.

"Nuh uh, you don't get to touch yourself."

She growled around a mouthful of Santana, satisfied when the Cheerio's head lolled on her neck from the feeling of the vibrations tickling her shaft. It was a tight fit, and she could hardly breathe as Santana began thrusting firmer into her throat. Santana pushed herself in to the hilt, her testicles almost grazing her chin. The grip on her hair was tightening, and Santana was pumping so hard into her throat that she almost recoiled. Santana's hands tugged violently at her hair one final time before she felt the thick spurts of semen fall warmly into her mouth. Tears had fallen from depravation of air. She probably looked a mess, shaken up and breathless on the floor, but she didn't care. She swallowed. She dragged her tongue slowly across her upper lip and looked up at Santana confidently. She felt like she paid her dues.

"So... could you get a babysitter for tonight?"

000 0000 000

When this all started, she'd been mad with Shelby. She was sore over the loss her team had to endure, because of her choir director's disappearance. She knew about Shelby and Puck. She wouldn't ever tell their secret. She could care less. But the plan she had needed leverage, and this was the perfect way to get what she wanted. Shelby had been on her radar the moment she joined the Troubletones. The teacher was all the things these high school girls weren't—Shelby was a woman.

Shelby seemed so in control of everything. She knew what to say, when to say it... how to say it. She talked a shit load of game for someone who never had to back it up. Shelby intrigued her. Even before she knew about the sex she and Puck had, she'd been enamored with the woman, smitten with her sophistication and understanding. She didn't think Shelby would be as willing as she had been so far. But she was glad that she was.

They cleaned up and left the choir room in silence, agreeing to part ways until later that night. Needless to say, she was excited. She was enjoying this, Shelby had been too shocked to ask about her anatomy, and she was happy she didn't have to sit her down and have the _I'm not quite she but not all he_ conversation she was dreading. That came later...She was starting to feel something for her teacher. Something that wasn't quite lust. At first, she thought it was guilt. She convinced herself that Shelby was only doing this with her to keep her quiet. Shelby's enthusiasm contradicted that thought. What she was feeling about Shelby now... it was similar to _**like**_.

She wasn't your average girl. Her lower half was convinced that it was male. Her upper half, including her brain, told her that she fit more with the breasts she had augmented to fit her identity. It had been a long, hard eighteen years... but she had come to terms with her condition.

She'd never been accepted sexually. Her condition was something she hid. She never even told Brittany, when they were actually dating... because being a lesbian had been hard enough; being intersexed would have been damn near impossible. She came to terms with her extra organ while dating Puck, who was as afraid of being gay as she was. They found comfort in the sex they had... but she bored easily and soon, they stopped.

Shelby wasn't just a conquest anymore. Sure, she was still anticipating the incredible sex they were about to have. But there was this inkling of feelings there, the hope for something **more**. She felt like she and Shelby could work as a couple. They could be together and her condition wouldn't sully them.

She felt like such a sap.

Those feelings were for a different day. Tonight, it was just sex; a quick fix for her libido. She was going to leave Shelby aching for more; she knew it. She was sitting in her car. It was nearly eight o'clock, and she was waiting for Shelby's babysitter to pick up Beth, so she and Shelby could have the house to themselves.

The door finally opened, and Puck walked out with Beth, her baby bag toted over his shoulder. Shelby gave him a five minute instruction talk, before Puck went to his truck to buckle Beth into her car seat. She was happy for Puck, he was becoming such a great guy for his daughter. She waited until he pulled off to knock on Shelby's door; suddenly nervous over the thoughts buzzing around in her mind. Feelings made things complicated. It made things harder to deal with. Right now she just wanted to have sex with Shelby. She'd deal with her feelings later.

Shelby came to the door in form fitting slacks and a pretty green blouse. Shelby moved out of the way as she walked in, and locked the door before leading her over to the couch. She didn't have a plan. She didn't feel like talking and she didn't want to let her thoughts cloud her mind. She just wanted to be balls deep in Shelby… because something was telling her it would be an **event**. She decided to just skip all of the bullshit. She leaned over and grabbed Shelby by her chin. She pulled her close and kissed her slowly, sighing contently when she pulled away.

"Santana…"

The tone in Shelby's voice sounded like the beginning of mood killer.

"If we do this… we do it right. I'm already in way too deep, and this situation is way out of control. But if we do this, we keep it quiet. I can't make reckless decisions. I have too much to lose…I can't be … indebted to you forever."

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to Shelby to tell her things she already knew. She leaned over again, to kiss her, this time lingering there afterwards to lean against Shelby's forehead. She stood abruptly. She pulled at Shelby's hand until she got up too; searching by room for the place she needed to be. When she finally found it, she pulled Shelby in front of her, and kissed her as she lead her over to the giant bed pushed against the opposite wall. Shelby fell easily onto her back, her arms splayed out around her, her hair contrasting against the red of her comforter.

There was a chair in the corner. It was an old fashioned rocker, fit beside the window. She pulled it to the end of the bed, and she down on it at the same time she took off her blazer. She wanted Shelby, but she **needed** the buildup. She wanted to see Shelby _unhinged_. There was this sly charisma to the woman who lay quietly on the bed in front of her. There was something about Shelby that made her want to see how far she could push before she lost it.

"Make yourself wet…"

Shelby leaned up on her elbows, her hair tumbled behind her, confusion mussing her brow.

"What? I-"

"I want to watch… make yourself wet."

She licked her lips for good measure and watched Shelby let her protests die on her tongue. Shelby complied, and her shaky hands went up to unbutton the shirt she was wearing...slowly. She let it fall to the floor. Shelby toed off her shoes. She unbuttoned her slacks and let them slide down her body before sitting right in front of the rocking chair she was still sitting in. Shelby put her bare feet on the seat of the rocker on both sides of her knees, her bottom teetering on the very edge of the bed. Shelby sat boldly in front of her in her underwear, and she bit her lip before letting her hand drag tediously around her bra clad nipple.

Shelby's other hand went straight for her clit, buried in the crotch of her panties. She moved her hand in small circles beneath the fabric of her underwear. Shelby did it like it was a well-practiced routine. Like she could do herself in at any time with a familiar stroke to her clit, or rough buck of her hips against a probing finger. That thought made her mouth water. She instantly wanted to see Shelby's sex. She flexed her leg on the floor and the rocker began to rock, Shelby's legs bobbing from where she had her feet resting beside her. The old rocker made keening noise as it rocked. The click sound shucked twice each time the chair rocked forward, then back again. She hooked her fingers under Shelby's underwear and pulled, tugging them down her legs and throwing them somewhere on the floor below her.

She automatically wanted to inhale the heady spice of Shelby's arousal, but she stopped herself. She leaned back against the back of the rocker, and put Shelby's hand right where she wanted it.

"Make yourself wet… but don't make yourself come."

She was having a hard time trying not to dive head first into Shelby's moist center. All she had to do was lean forward and touch her there… or kiss her there. Shelby stopped her wandering mind when she began to tap softly at the hardening nub. Shelby reached across the space between them to put a single finger in her mouth. She let it loiter there before pulling it out, Shelby's middle finger moist with her saliva. Shelby opened herself wider and circled her clit slowly, Shelby's feet tensing beside her knees on the still moving rocking chair, steady with the movement of their little game. The chair clicked, and shucked and swooshed as Shelby began toying with her clit, her hips rising and falling as the rocking chair continued to rock with her in it. Shelby began dragging her finger from her clit to her entrance, finding wetness there and trailing it up her slit.

Along with the noises coming from the chair, she slowly began to register the noises coming from Shelby. They were tiny whimpers, small gasps and rumbling moans that quickly enhanced the sensation of her penis getting harder in her skirt. She grabbed the bulge building beneath the tight fabric of her miniskirt and she kneaded the head of her penis—enjoying the show Shelby was putting on in front of her. Shelby leaned back enough to allow her space, and she took the moment to kick off her combat boots and pull her dress over her head. She sat in the rocking chair as the clicks became as frequent as Shelby's panting. She was rocking in the chair, clad only in her briefs, tempted to pull out her cock to stroke it along with Shelby's hectic movements. Shelby's foot moved from its perch beside her to the arm of the rocking chair. Her hips began canting frantically, and her eyes were shut tight. Shelby fucked her finger, her middle digit stroked inside her, never slowing despite the awkward rocking of the chair, and the uneven strokes her legs had to make to accommodate the movement.

If she let Shelby continue, she would come. The chair was clicking as it moved back and forth, Shelby's beautiful leg pushed against the back of the chair as she continued to play with her wet pussy, moans loud from her throat and deep from her belly.

"Stop."

She said it loud enough to throw off the noises that were overcrowding the room. Shelby pushed her foot against the chair until it broke the rhythm and slowed down, but she let her finger stay inside her to avoid the emptiness. Her obedience was admirable. She stood in her underwear, hard, and crawled quickly above Shelby before gripping her fingers on the edges of her hips. Shelby followed her tug and landed on her stomach. She reached down between them and pulled Shelby's ass against her erection, inhaling the aroma wafting from the crook of Shelby's neck.

She was done with teasing. The entire day had been one long cock tease. She balanced on her knees before smoothing her hands over the small of Shelby's back. She arched her hand along the curve there, and Shelby's ass instinctively pushed upward, her hands reaching for the pillows at the top of the bed; Shelby's legs pushed between the space her own legs left room for. She pushed her underwear to the middle of her thighs, and dragged the bulbous tip of her penis along the folds of Shelby's aroused vagina. She spread the moisture that way, before finally giving into the urge to push inside her.

Shelby's tight entrance gripped around her shaft and seemed to thump around her cock. She pushed in to the hilt, enjoying the first feel of the woman she was sheathed inside of; captivated.

"Mmmmhmmm…"

"Ughhhh..."

Their moans drifted out at the same time, both of them satisfied with the fit. She began rubbing slow circles into her back, thrusting slowly to get accustomed with this warm, wet, unfamiliar heaven she was pumping into. Shelby pushed against her as she stroked, and she let her hands trace slowly to her ass, pulling it apart in her hands and admiring the view of their coupling from this vantage point.

She began to speed up, and their bodies began to shatter against each other, the noises of their heavy breathing and the thudding body parts overwhelming her senses. Her hips were bucking, the feeling was uncontrollable. Shelby seemed to move different muscles inside of her simultaneously, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to last much longer. She grabbed a handful of Shelby's hair before lifting a leg to gain leverage. She settled her weight on her foot and slammed deeper into her, and waited, before pulling back out again.

"You better come."

She began pumping into her, the force of her strokes pushing Shelby forward with each thrust. There was a smattering of feeling, the wave of pressure from Shelby's insides quivered around her cock.

"Mhmmmmm, I will… I will, just, don't stop, Santana… make me com—"

The words got stuck in Shelby's throat as she pulled her hair, a final thrust pushing both of them over the edge. She pulled out quickly; aiming most of her orgasm onto Shelby's shivering back. They fell together, a mess of limbs and sweat, to the bed.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Shelby pulled her arm around her midsection, her breaths still sporadic and uneven.

"No… you can stay the night."

She didn't know why, but those feelings she was having earlier were coming back as she pulled her underwear up and cuddled into Shelby's backside. It was a small tug on the left side of her chest that had her hoping for something **more**. She felt like staying the night was a small victory. Because maybe, Shelby wanted her there. Maybe she would get a chance to talk about all those feelings she'd been having in the morning.

"Maybe we should do this again sometime…"

Shelby squeezed her hand and nodded. When she spoke, her voice was tired, lazy sounding to the uproar that just dissipated from their coupling.

"Mmmmhmm, Santana. Definitely…"

She reached over and turned off the lamp beside the bed. She was staying over. She would have tomorrow to sort all of those things out. She felt like she owed that to her.

End. 

Author's Note: This was prompted as a happy ending, romantic smut fic dealing with Puck one uppance and Sheltana. This was as romantic as I could in this smut fic. I hope I did this prompt justice. Please review.


	2. Epilogue

Author's Note: I reread this this morning and decided that I could try at a more … romantic conclusion. Please review.

Epilogue

What woke her up from a very comfortable sleep was Shelby's hushed voice. She was loud whispering into the telephone on the bedside table, the phone next to the clock that read 3:30 AM in big bright red letters. She rubbed the dreams from her eyes and sat up slightly on her elbows. She listened to the conversation Shelby was having when the daze began to fade.

"Noah… If you rock her, maybe sing to her she'll go right back to sleep. Do you need me to come pick her up? I know you can handle it but I— it's Beth's first night away, she probably woke up because she wasn't in her crib. I know it's late. Okay. Just…just make sure you call me if she stays cranky okay? Okay, good. Goodnight Noah."

Shelby hung up the phone. Shelby had managed to find a t-shirt sometime during the night. It was probably at the same time she'd made the cup of tea sitting by her on the bedside table. Shelby reached out to squeeze a knot in the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder. She rolled her neck until there was an audible 'pop', and sat up straighter before reaching over to turn off the table lamp.

"Everything okay?"

Her voice sounds broken. She clears her throat and reaches out a hand out in search of Shelby's. She finds it, and the woman sitting on the edge of the bed turns sideways to stare at her in the darkened room. Shelby's back relaxed, and she let go of her hand to lie beside her, their arms tangling where their shoulders pressed together.

"Yea…sorry I woke you."

"Don't be…"

She let her head turn to Shelby's face, their noses touching slightly in their proximity to each other. She reached a hand out to Shelby's cheek, her eyelashes tickled her hand before Shelby's hand came to rest on top of it. She didn't have words for the moment. Shelby lifted her palm and reached up to kiss it. It was… _sweet_. She inhaled slowly, content as she lay beside this woman. This beautiful woman who she was starting to actually _**like**_. Shelby seemed awake; suddenly a ball of energy, unable to stay still. Shelby began kissing slowly up her arm, leaning over her finally to press a kiss to her lips. Her kisses were soft, whispers of sensation across her responding mouth. They didn't deepen, instead, Shelby began kissing paths to her neck, marking ways slowly with her tongue.

She let her do it. She enjoyed the feeling as Shelby began to explore her body openly. She kissed and nipped and sucked slowly; tediously. Shelby's hands were everywhere. She was dragging fingers down her stomach, cupping her through the underwear she was still wearing and scratching over her hips on her way up to her breasts. All she could do was play with Shelby's hair, and urge her to continue with her eager excavation of her skin. Shelby's mouth kissed the skin just beneath her breast, and she involuntarily arched her back. She flicked her tongue over the same spot on the other side, and let her mouth drag up and around a hardened nipple. She thanks her plastic surgeon for keeping her sensitivity, because she'd hate if she could never feel this feeling again. Shelby sucks on her nipple, and lets her hand down to cup at her stirring erection. She takes her own hand to pull on her other nipple, which was aching for attention.

Shelby broke away from her movements to sit up, pulling off her t-shirt and letting it fall behind her. Shelby straddled her hips and draped her upper body over hers, their breasts kissing blazingly as Shelby locked lips with hers. Shelby began rocking, her sex warm over the bulge in her underwear. Shelby dragged herself over her, stroking her cock as it began jumping in anticipation. She leaned up to palm Shelby's hips, her hips rocking upward into her, rubbing places that made her stomach pull and her hips buck.

Shelby began kissing her, her mouth sloppy as their rocking moved them in different directions. Shelby's hips began to draw slow circles into her, and she felt the familiar rush of heat trail down her body. The room was quiet besides the small tap of the headboard against the wall and their grunting. There was no talking, there was no command or direction—there was only the sounds of their quiet effort to please each other. Shelby shuddered against her, before pressing against her gyrating hips to stop her movements. Shelby rose on her knees to reach her hand behind her. Shelby pulled out her cock, and hovered over it. In the little light that she had from the window, she could only see Shelby's eyes.

Shelby's eyes closed as she sunk down over her dick. Shelby fanned her fingers over her hip, her thumbs pressing firmly into her belly button as she adjusted to the size. Shelby let out a shaky breath before sighing, rising slightly on her, and sinking slowly back down. She let her hand trail up to Shelby's breasts, kneading them lightly in her hands as Shelby began riding her.

"You're so beautiful…"

The words came out before she could stop them. Shelby didn't stop, or slow down. She leaned forward with half of her still inside and kissed the side of her mouth. She sat back up and began stroking over her; faster. On her next up stroke, she felt it. Shelby's muscles gripped as she lifted, the fit tight enough for the suction to pull her skin and rub out one of the most amazing sensations she's ever felt. It was tighter on the down stroke, and Shelby fluttered deep inside, right at the tip of her penis; buried to the hilt. She couldn't keep her eyes open through the next stroke, and she began instinctively thrusting upwards, harder each time Shelby rippled and contracted around her.

They were sweating. The quiet "umphs" and "ohhs" and "ahs" began to filter into the air. She choked out several broken versions of Shelby's name as the goddess on her lap rode her until her toes began to curl. There was a wet slamming as they continued, Shelby thrusting over top of her expertly, the crushing heat stealing her breath. She pulled her forward, wrapping her hands around her back as she drilled into her from below. If she let Shelby keep going, she would lose it. She stopped Shelby's hips when they went to stroke again, and she rolled them over closer to the middle of the bed. She put her arms under the bends of Shelby's knees and pushed her hips back until her knees touched her chest. She lined herself up with Shelby's entrance, and kissed her before driving in, balls deep.

Shelby's hand shot out to stop her from moving. She kissed her again and rocked her hips, slowly, the stroke short and deliberate. Shelby let out a strangled noise with each thrust.

"Santana… you're so—you're so deep."

She began stroke downward, Shelby's back left the bed as she pushed against her.

"Will you come with me?"

They were whispering. She didn't know why but they were. Shelby pulled her head to the crook of her neck, letting a fistful of her hair tighten in her palm. The bed was making a banging noise against the wall now. She was stroking almost all the way out, and slamming back in to the hilt. Shelby let out yelps the deeper she went, and she felt the gush of Shelby's wetness coat her penis as she continued.

"Mmmmhmmm"

She kissed her with her eyes closed as she worked the wet channel she was in. She felt Shelby's walls squeezing, fluttering and constricting tighter around her cock as she kept the rapid pace. She pulled Shelby's hips from the top, and the added pressure set of a series of waves, rippling violently around her penis. She continued stroking through it, trying her best not to finish inside the woman quivering violently beneath her. A pulsating grip on the down stroke had her reeling, and she pulled out and continued stroking her hand until every ounce of her orgasm gathered on Shelby's stomach. She got up on her weak legs and reached for tissues beside the lamp on the table next to the bed. She cleaned a still trembling Shelby off, before scooting behind her to rest against her back.

They lay in silence together; stuck.

000 0000 000

When she got out of bed earlier that night, it was because of her worrying stomach. She wasn't worried about Beth when she called Noah, she just needed a distraction from the girl sleeping soundly in her bed. She got up, fishing through an open drawer for a t-shirt, satisfied when she found a large one. She made her way to the kitchen and put on the kettle, biting the side of her mouth until her tea finished. She'd called him; she just needed to know that Beth was okay, because she definitely wasn't.

She sat and sipped hot tea at the kitchen counter, thinking about the situation she'd put herself in. What was she doing? She had sex with Noah, and instantly regretted it. She needed to get far away from him, because he'd proven to be just a boy. Santana was proving to be an _equal_. This entire day seemed surreal. She'd lost her cool over a girl. A girl she'd had rough doggy style sex with before falling to sleep in her bed, together. The sex they'd had at first had been quick. They'd been teasing all day, and by the time they were actually ready to have sex, it happened in a flourish of adrenaline and lust.

But as she curled into Santana, her arm resting over her to pull her closer, she realized that the second time they'd had sex that day had meant something completely different. She liked Santana. She could do this every day with the girl and that terrified her. Santana was eighteen. She was a student at the school she taught for. This could only work after Santana graduated, or after she quit her job. Or not at all.

She didn't feel guilty, or wrong about what happened. She hadn't felt coerced into the situation, and she could have easily gotten away from the girl's advances—but she didn't want to. She can't make this a mistake, because it wasn't. Since adopting Beth, she'd lost herself. Rearing a child was a full time job, and it left no time for her leisure. Santana had made her feel sexy. She made her feel _alive_.

"You're thinking too loud."

Santana's voice dragged her from her thoughts. She felt caught; trapped between Santana's arms. She was an adult. She was a parent. But she was still a **woman**. She had to come to terms with her feelings for this girl, regardless of this situation . She had to be honest with Santana, and she had to be honest with herself.

"What are we doing, Santana?"

Santana squeezes her midsection and inhales heavily.

"I like this. Isn't that enough?"

She sighed. She didn't turn around, but she started drawing patterns on Santana's arm.

"It's not enough. There's my job, our age difference. My daughter. This isn't some quick affair that will end quietly."

"I know you excite me. I want to know things about you. I want to be around you. Why can't we just see with this goes? And I can be… quiet. We can work through the next few months. It's not that long."

It seemed to easy. But at the moment, snuggled in Santana's arms seemed like instinct. Mistakes were hard. It was how she knew; because this was easy and they could work it out.

"Yea… it's not. Not long at all."

End.


End file.
